A Beat Judges Log
by jarec
Summary: The Personal log of a newly recruited member of the Adeptus Arbites, as he deals with life death crime and politics in the belly of the Underhive
1. Chapter 1

Personal Log of Alain Vrad

Personal Log of Alain Vrad

347.904 M41

Wow. The first entry in my new journal- excuse me, personal Log. Trust Zeeren to get me something so relentlessly practical. I suppose that's why she sought and received entry to the Adeptus Mechanicus. Don't get me wrong, I know the techpriests are vital to keeping our world operating. The factories, the shipyards, even the hives themselves would fall apart if the Mechanicus didn't perform their holy rites. I've just always preferred people to machines. Plus, I've always been satisfied with the Tool I was born with! Ha Ha!

Throne, I hope Zee never reads this…

But anyway. Today is such a big day for me. I graduated from Basic and Preparatory not three hours ago, and will soon be assigned a place in the Arbites. It's what I've always wanted, a chance to give something back to my homeworld. Of course, dad wasn't terribly excited the first time he heard it- he's a foreman at Scanda Hive's Main Plasma Reactor, and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. Still, he had to admit, it's a good position and an important job, so eventually we made up. He bought me a beer, looked me square in the eye, and told me that if I ever fined him I'd find I wasn't to big to be spanked. I'm pretty sure he was joking.

We all went to the chapel, to thank the Emperor for all our good luck. It seems that all of the Vrad kids got their prayers answered. Mykal is a pilot for one of the Rogue Traders way out in the Fringe, Tyla married her childhood sweetheart and opened a small eatery on level 12, and Zeeren and me both got our dream jobs. It really makes you believe in the power of prayer, y'know? Mom keeps saying that we must have a direct line to the Golden Throne.

Of course, graduation also meant moving. All Arbites live at the central barracks, which means I have to pack up and leave my home behind me tomorrow night. Funny, there were times when I just couldn't wait to leave home, and now that I am…I just want to stay.

I'll write more tomorrow- right now I want to enjoy my last night here.

348. 904 M41

Well, that was fun.

A whole day at Arbites Central in the Capital Hive, mostly spent waiting in lines. The whole day started early, at 5am, when I left home to catch the shuttle to Capital Hive. It's clear on the other side of the planet, so I had a long flight. This was the first time I'd ever left Scanda Hive, and I was really excited to see the capital of Dobran's World. Capital Hive (or CapCity) was bigger than Scanda, and less polluted- that's about the only differences I could spot. The architecture, the people, even the zone and level names were the same.

We landed at the shuttleport at 8am. Then I had to find the damned place- at least that was easy enough. The Arbites Central Command is an immense black pyramid, surrounded by smaller habs for senior officials, and pretty hard to miss. Even if you did, the massive razor wire fences and the roving squads of Judges were a pretty good hint. At first they gave me some heat for being in the Secure Zone but when they found out why I was there they became downright friendly. They walked me up to the main building and gave me some helpful advice. They also gave me a list of where to go and in what order to be done as fast as possible. Emperor bless them, that helped me out!

First, I had to turn in my Training gear at the main armory. Although most of my graduating class had come at the same time as me, not many thought to go there first. So I got through that quickly; I turned in the mat-gray tunic, boots and the practice gun I've carried around for four months. Once the clerk signed my docket, I had to run to the other side of the complex and be formally signed out of the Training Unit.

That ended the easy part of the day.

Next, I had to register as a Trained Arbites Officer- that took forever, because my former classmates all thought that was the first stop. Needless to say, the bureaucrats didn't announce the mistake to everyone- they made us all wait in line while they told each one seperately. It took an hour to reach the desk and sign in. I was good and mad until I saw the clerk- poor fragger looked like hell. So I gritted my teeth and smiled and was as warm and polite as anyone could wish- it seemed to work, since he processed me quickly and even wished me luck.

After that, everything shutdown for lunch and most of my classmates had to go hungry. The commissary was for personnel only, and no one who didn't work at Central Command was allowed in. Fortunately, mom had insisted I bring a lunch, so I was all right. I shared what I could with my two best friends (Wyld and Taym), and wound up with little more than a half sandwich and a sweetystikk for myself. Oh well, you have to look out for your buddies, right?

My next step was to be assigned a Station. That was another long wait; it seems a fresh shipment of veterans had been transferred from off-world and were being assigned. Naturally, they took precedence, so I waited two hours before I finally got my assignment- Blue Sector. Blue Sector is in the Underhive of Scanda, and from what I've heard it's a mixed bag. On the one hand, it's in the worst, filthiest, poorest, and most crime ridden sector of Scanda, but on the other hand the officers there are the best. It's not what I would have wanted, but at least I'll be in the same hive as my family.

Next, I went back to the armory to pick up my new equipment. Naturally, there was a line- my former classmates had finally gotten their acts together, and were turning in their Training gear. Another hour down the fraggin' drain. Big bonus- I rated high enough in training to qualify as heavy weapons specialist. So while my friends were getting their shotguns, I get handed a Plasma Gun! I wish I'd taken a pict of their faces! Finally, I went to the guardhouse to find the two Judges I'd met before. I thanked them for their help, and bought them both snacks from the PX. Then, it was off to home to get my stuff.

After tearful goodbyes to my parents (yeah I cried, no shame in that) I boarded the Mass Transit Elevator, and went down to Blue Sector. It took twenty minutes to get down to the Underhive and when the doors opened, I wished it had taken longer. The place was almost totally pitch dark, with the only light coming from flickering glow globes. The air was…well, I can't say it STANK exactly, but it sure wasn't what I was used to. I found out later that the air down here had half the impurities of the air I was used to. Something to do with rising wind currents, or something. But weirdest of all were the people- the first one to speak to me (he wanted change) had three arms! I'd always heard stories about mutants in the underhive but I'd never really believed them until that moment.

Somehow, I managed to contain my shock, and make my way to the Arbites barrack. As one of the only properly built structures in the sector, the barrack wasn't hard to find. It was late at night by that point, so the staff sergeant issued me my bed and told me we'd see to the rest in the morning. I stumbled down the hall to the Male Judges Sleeping area and found my bed- I lucked into the lower bunk on the bed nearest the wall. I slipped my kitbag under the bed and slipped into my Off-Duty pants. Too tired to shower, I decided to lie down and get some sleep.

That's where I am now. Good night.

A/N

Ahhh, a return to my roots in Warhammer. I actually wrote this story before- a few years ago, actually. It got lost when my laptop got fried and I'm only now recovering it. Frankly, rhough, I think it'll be better than before- I've actually been through the military, and I'll be able to bring that experience to bear on my writing.

I'm going to tell you now, this story will most likely end up the red-headed step child of my current projects- but I will finish it! Just don't expect updates all that often is all.


	2. Chapter 2

349. 904 M41

My first day is almost finished and boy was it something.

I reported to the Sector Commander's office at eight o'clock sharp, and proceeded to wait an hour before being allowed in to see him. Apparently, some sort of major arrest had gone down the other night, and the Commander was currently busy hammering out the inevitable paperwork involved in shipping the perp (one Kal Jiiran) to the nearest Penal Work Center. I've read about world's where the local law enforcement are only responsible for arresting criminals- they don't have to worry about the hassles that go with sentencing the bastards.

Finally, I was ushered in to see the Old Man himself- Dyal Trantner, the most legendary Arbites in the history of this planet. He sported a large power-claw in place of his left arm, which he'd lost in the Genestealer Insurrection fifteen years ago. He'd brought down huge interplanetary smuggling rings, nipped revolutions in the bud, and even worked with the Inquisition rooting out Eldar spies- and now he was looking at me. To my surprise, he smiled.

"Relax, Vrad" he said. His voice was mellow, but strong. I could easily see it barking out orders in combat. "Have a seat. Cup of Caf? Or maybe a sweetroll?"

"Sir! No thank you Sir!" I answered, sure that the great hero of Scanda Hive expected rigid discipline. To my astonishment he burst out laughing.

"Oh, son, you do my heart good. You're not in training anymore, Vrad, you don't have to call me sir, and you can drop the recruit act. Now, I've looked over your file and there are some things I like and some things I don't. It says here you are admirably disciplined, a crack shot, courageous and a leader. Those are all wonderful things, Vrad. However, I also note that you've been marked down as asocial, and overly rigid. I can't tolerate either of those here, Vrad. An Arbites Squad has to work together seamlessly- they can't just be coworkers, they have to be like brothers. Moreover, Blue Sector is a…tricky place to serve. Mutant laborers live here, as do the poorest classes of workers, and we have to do our best to defend them from the scum who'd prey on them. Thieves, cultists, pushers, Trekers and the like. That means we have to tread carefully sometimes, and that we can't always do things by the book. You scan me, Vrad?"

"I …think so sir. But I'm not comfortable breaking the law." I said, feeling it was better to say it now and take whatever happened than to get sucked into something bad.

"What?! Oh…No, Vrad, I think you misunderstand me. Hmmm…let me give you an example. Lets say you find a mutant who has no Job Card. What does the law say to do?"

"The law states that all unemployed Mutants be rounded up for the Labor Camps, sir"

"Yes, it does. Now, I know for a fact that a number of business in this hive employ large numbers of mutant workers without giving them Cards. That way, they can claim to be smaller than they are when Tithe time comes around. We COULD arrest those mutants, but that'd but a serious crimp in the hive's economy. Likewise, we could force those companies to card their mutants, but they'd just move to a hive where things were less rigid. Instead, we have the mutant in question watched, and if he really doesn't have a job THEN we arrest him. You see?"

I did- and didn't like it "That's- that's awfully lenient sir."

"No, it's just necessary for the Hive. And besides, most of the mutants here are classified as RadMutants. Their mutations are small, and come from the pollution that used to be dumped down here until the Governor outlawed it. They aren't tainted, they're just unlucky. Cadet, I know it's a good deal to take in at once but believe me- you'll understand in time. Now, go meet up with your squad in the Briefing room. Dismissed"

I made my way to the briefing room just in time to meet my squad. We began with a round of introductions, and I met the four most important people of my new life. Our commander was Janda Krawn, a hardened vet from Tertius Hive. She was a tall woman, with seemingly delicate features and short silver hair and one eye. Her face had numerous small scars, and her missing eye was covered with a black patch. She acted every bit the hardened veteran, but assured me that so long as I did my job, she'd look out for me. I was surprised to learn that she wasn't all that much older than me- just twenty five years old. She'd been an Arbitrator for seven years, and in that time she'd fought down two rebellions, a Genestealer cult and dealt with the usual danger that accompanies a career as an Arbitrator. Oh, and between you and me Journal, she's the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.

Xhia Jang was, surprisingly enough, a member of the planetary aristocracy. He assured me that he expected no special treatment for this- that he'd joined the Arbites to escape the debauched atmosphere of court, as well as the constant intrigues within his own family. He was a shortish man, with curiously yellow skin and slanted eyes- a legacy, he said, of his family's origins on ancient Terra- and dark hair. He was almost as new to the unit as I was, having arrived only four months ago. He promised to help me get settled in, and to teach me the unofficial ins and outs of the unit. He also asked me what my stance was on dirty jokes- and when I tentatively said I liked them he gave a happy smile. "Then I finally have someone to tell them all too!" he'd exclaimed.

Jared and Jareen Spaak were twins from CapCity. They'd been grown enlisted together, trained together and bribed the Assignation Officer to ensure that they served together. They were almost perfect doubles; with fine-boned features, long dark hair and slim builds. The only difference was in their genders. They didn't say very much, but kept signing to one another in what was no doubt a private code. I'd heard of that- twins who have their own language- but it was way weirder in person.

After introductions, Janda went over the important areas and patrol zones of our sector. The most important landmark in the sector was the Church of the Purified Emperor- and I was surprised to learn that father Mal'kay'hee was the local priest. Father Mal'Kay'hee had been the priest at my family's own church until a few years ago when he just disappeared. Apparently, he'd felt the call to come preach to the lowly and the mutant, and had been here in Blue Sector ever since. I made a note to go say hello when the opportunity presented itself.  
Other key locations included the tavern district, the mutant shantytown, the Slag Recovery Plant, and the Outlands. The Outlands are a toxic wasteland on the very borders of Scanda Hive- and a prime site for Trekers. Trekers, of course, are slavers who kidnap mutants and other low-class Hivers, march them to other hives and sell them into servitude. Janda explained that although the Outlands were technically not part of Scanda, the Arbites ran daily patrols anyway. It was not pleasant duty, but as she said "If you wanted a pleasant life what the frag are you doing here?" Says it all, really.

In addition to all this patrolling, two squads were selected every week to stand watch over the Barracks for the week. Each squad is split into two teams of two, each mounted in a watchtower, with the commander ensconced at Command. Watches consist of six hour shifts all through the day. Xhia chimed in not to assume this was easy work- he personally had had to shoot would be infiltrators on four separate occasions.

With the briefing concluded, we went on a walking tour of the Barracks complex. Formally, the Arbites Barracks is referred to as Adeptus Arbites Courthouse 6 (Scanda), but that doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. The point is, it's a lot more than just our barracks. It contains the mess hall, food stores, armory, firing range, the Court House proper, the jail (for containment of prisoners pre-trial), the Medicae Hall, the motor pool, and the only Aircraft Landing Pad in all of Blue Sector. In short, it's designed to make us almost totally self-contained. I was particularly impressed by the motor pool, which contained three Chimera APCs and a Rhino. The head of the motor pool proudly told me that the Rhino had been a gift from the Terror Tigers Space Marine Chapter- a token of appreciation for Commander Trantner's bravery against the Genestealers. I was suitably impressed- to think I would be using a transport once graced by the blessed Astartes!

After lunch, we returned to the armory, where Janda pulled me aside for a private talk.

"Listen, Alain, we need to talk about the plasma gun. I know you're no doubt proud of it, and excited to use it- as you should be! But you can't keep it" I suppose my shock and sadness must have shown, because she went on to explain. "It's not a practical weapon here in Blue Sector; it's a long range weapon with incendiary capabilities, and we're in a close packed and highly flammable environment. Don't worry, you'll still be our squads Heavy Weapons man, and you'll keep in practice with the Plasma gun- but for day to day use, you'll get a standard Imperial Guard Grenade Launcher- or Iggle as we call it. Go to the armory officer and make the exchange."

With a heavy heart, I did as she ordered. The officer exclaimed over my prized weapon- apparently, very few of the recruits sent to Blue Sector were issued plasma weapons, and he took it from my hands with visible reverence. In exchange, he handed me a large, drum-fed grenade launcher- but not just any model. He gave me one of the barracks Master Crafted models- he said "I'd feel bad just giving you any old Iggle when you're supposed to be using that beauty of a plasma gun. Besides, if you were good enough to be trusted with that, then I guess you can be trusted with this." I was sorry to see my beautiful weapon go, but I had to admit this was a pretty nice substitute.

I spent the rest of today on the target range, qualifying for use of my new Iggle. I learned how to care for it, using the various Rites of Maintenance as prescribed by the Adeptus Mechanicus- hey, maybe now I can have something to talk about with Zeeren! HAHAHAHA!… oh, throne I hope she never reads that…

Anyway, I also learned how to make basic field repairs, how to load and unload and how to clear the occasional jam. The instructor commented that with a Master Crafted weapon, I probably wouldn't need to know that last bit, but better safe than dead. I had to agree with that. I learned about and tried out the various loads- High Explosive, Gas, Frag, Krak and Haywire. I was totally absorbed in learning all I could about Iggle, and by the time we finished, it was already time for dinner!

The food here is all right, I suppose. Better then what we got in Basic and Preparatory but a far cry from the food mom used to make. Some meat, some potatoes, a bit of vegetable-puree, and a sweetroll for dessert. Filling, but not what I'd call gourmet fare. The squad ate together, and I learned a lot about them. Xhia had a real Aristo education, and knew a lot about politics and history. Janda had traveled all over this planet, and had served in all five of the Hives. The twins talked a bit about themselves and CapCity. I mostly just listened- I hadn't had anywhere near as exciting a life.

After that, it was over to the training field for close combat drill. I'd never really been to good at that- never much saw the point of getting up close and personal with rude strangers who wanted to kill me. Consequently, I got my ass handed to me that day. At the end, Jareen helped me up off the ground and offered her services as a tutor- said that we can't always rely on being able to take out our enemies from range. I accepted, and we all made our way to the barracks for a shower and bed.

I'm lying in bed now, trying to ignore the cries of my tormented body. I'll write more tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

350. 904 M41

Nothing much to report today, Journal. We spent half the day doing close combat drill-, which basically translates, to me getting the Frag beaten out of me for several hours straight. I guess it makes sense that we learn this stuff- most of the sector is pretty short on space, so most of our combat will be done up close. I was really humiliated, though, until Jareen followed up on her offer of help. She taught be a lot of holds and throws, and by the end of the day I was doing much better than before. After that we had lunch- the meal was spent giving me pointers on fighting techniques, and everyone recalling their favorite brawl.

The rest of the day was spent on the firing range, mastering my Iggle (and yes, I know how bad that sounds). It's a lot harder to use precisely than my old plasma gun, since its often used to lob grenades (you can't launch haywires or gas grenades). I have to account for wind, calculate the proper angle, and more- a lot more skull work than I'm used to from my weapons! By the end of the day, I could drop a grenade to within a foot of my target- good progress for a single day. But still, pretty dull.

The reason I'm writing anything at all today is Jared. He saw this Journal lying on my bunk, and asked me why I was keeping it. "After all" he said "If anything worth remembering happens to you, it's unlikely you'll ever forget it. And why bother to record all the rest of it?"

I have to admit, the question had me stumped. I spent all day thinking about it and I decided that I was doing it for the future. If I have a heroic career, I might choose to write memoirs- and a journal of my early years might be useful for that. With that in mind, I suppose I'd best explain some stuff about the unique position of the Arbites here on Dobran's World.

See, on most planets the Arbites are a lot more like a foreign army than a police force. They're usually off-worlders, they seldom mingle with locals, and there's rarely more than a few of them on any given planet. Their job is simple: to enforce Imperial Law- those laws that are made by the High Lords of Terra for the entire Imperium. They aren't responsible for local, planetary laws and in fact, are usually downright hostile to local law enforcement.

But when Dobran's World was settled in the Thirty-Fifth Millennium, the settlement contained a fairly large force of Arbitrators right from the start. Normally, we Arbites (Throne, how good does it feel to say that) are only sent to established worlds but for some reason this time was different. As any school kid knows, Dobran's World was isolated by a small warp storm for most of the Thirty-Fourth Millenium, and during that time the Arbites came to an understanding with the colonists. The Arbitrators would act as the colony's primary law enforcement, but in exchange, the citizens would have to provide a certain number of recruits every year. In time it became a status thing; serving in the Arbites became a thing to be proud of, on par with serving in the Imperial Guard. Frag, we even serve as an auxiliary to the Planetary Defense Force in time of war!

After eight hundred years, the warp storm calmed and Imperial vessels made landing at CapCity. They said they were there to reestablish contact, but it was kind of an open secret that they were really checking for Warp Taint. They were a little surprised to find that the Arbites were a cornerstone of life in the Hives, and a little suspicious. After all, perhaps the Arbites were simply tainted servants of a corrupted regime. However, investigation turned up nothing and since Imperial Law doesn't actually forbid this kind of relationship, they decided to let it be.

Arbites on our world keep Imperial Law AND Planetary Law. Like I said before, we're the police, the judiciary and the executioners. It's a lot of work, but we're proud to do it. It's a situation that works well for everyone- crime is low, arrests are rare, and people feel safe. Everyone knows the Arbitrators in the sector, and feel comfortable talking to them. More than that, though, we keep the Aristocratic Court from passing stupid laws, simply because we tell them we won't enforce them.

In fact, the planet's achieved a sort of fame in our Sector- my brother Mykal tells me that he's heard police on other planets talk about Dobran's World like it was paradise. They call it the World that Law Built.

I've heard about how it is on some worlds- where people have four or five locks on their doors, and go around town armed. Where the police solve maybe half the crimes and people can just vanish in the night. On those worlds, a woman would be more afraid of the police than of the man who raped her, and children are taught to run in fear from Arbitrators I can't imagine living that way.

At the time I'm writing this, there are something like fifty thousand Arbitrators in Scanda Hive alone, and they manage to keep order. Last year, there were two thousand murders, and we caught 1737 murderers. That doesn't sound like an achievement, I know, until you consider that Scanda houses some forty MILLION people. As one veteran pointed out, your average citizen has a better chance of being hit by a meteorite than he does of being murdered.

So that's our world Journal. Maybe we aren't in line with Arbites elsewhere in the Imperium, but our way works for us.


End file.
